Bookish London

Chapter Two - Kyle

I don’t really know why I interrupted her. I just had an urge to do it and I did. I guess I acted on instinct. Something I promised myself not to do, time and time again.
I am not reliable on those terms, apparently.
Uh, well, I really don’t care. I just never do. I don’t give two hells if I hurt anyone’s feelings, not even my mum’s. That’s why I try so much, I need to be the best. It’s almost an unnatural desire, I just need it to complete me. But I also want popularity. And those two never get along, ever. That’s why I am only a nerd because of Her. Just to show everyone I am better than the so called “Nerd”. Not that I am one myself, mind you.
I just study, a lot. And that upsets popularity’s standards…I don’t even know why.
Anyway, after I interrupted her, the teacher started going all cray-cray on every single person in our class besides us, and that was a novelty, even for Miss Carey.
She never says anything remotely rude to anyone…only double-sided jokes and mean remarks, but nothing this harsh, ever. She must be on one of her bad days.
At the end of class, I did something I had never done before: I waited for her at the doorway.
While she gathers her stuff, I glance over at my three best friends: Duncan, William, and Alexander, but we all call him Alex. They’re joking and pranking each other, as always. I love these three guys. I met them at kindergarten and since then we’ve been competing to outdo each other in everything: but we have never gone too far in our fights, we never raised hands against each other in a fight. We always had and still have our backs. Forever.
My walk down memory lane gets interrupted by Kayla Weston’s high-pitched voice, while she’s talking to Elizabeth, her best friend.
They walk past me through the doorway and Kayla starts walking backwards in front of her best friend making some weird goofy faces that make Elizabeth laugh.
I start walking behind them at their same pace and say: “Nerd camp try-outs start next week, Cuthbert. You interested?”. Right at that moment my mates join me behind Kayla and Elizabeth and start laughing like crazy for what I said.
“Well then, I guess I’ll see you there, Carter. Don’t miss out, yeah?” and then Kayla looks at her with a highly pleased grin on her face, and I fall back, standing still like a tree, feeling stupid and embarrassed by being silenced by a girl.
Alex notices my absence, and walks back towards, and Duncan and William follow him.
“Hey, Ky, you tried. She’s smarter than you. Get over it.” Says William smiling. Never. “She must have had it in her to embarrass you since you ruined her answer in Lit earlier. You honestly asked for it, mate.” Says Duncan, while giving a pat on the back and puts his arm on my shoulder, as does Alex with William and me, and we walked in a quartet to our next class, History.
There is nothing more boring than Mr Charleston’s History class, and I have had a lot of different teachers and classes and I have gone to various schools. None have had anyone as annoying and boring as Mr Charleston. For real.
We walk into class and, as usual, Mr Charleston fell asleep on his desk…he must’ve been bored by his own lesson. Lol.
I look around our class to find free seats for us, and the only ones are in front of Elizabeth and Kayla’s desks. Oh saints, no. I cannot endure this. It was painful enough saying those stupid words in the hallway earlier. The angels should be on my side, for once! Well, whatever goes, I can’t listen to this class standing up, anyway. I must take what I can get. Life teaches you that. Always.
We sit in those four desks, trying not to wake up Mr Charleston, it’s funnier to watch him snore in various, highly uncomfortable angles of his desk, it’s just like a comedy film, seriously.
I pull out my copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde from my study bag and set in on the desk, surrounded by the astonished faces of my best friends.
“You-You read?” asks Alex. I thought him to be the most introvert between us, I expected HIM to be the reader, actually-
“Yeah, why? Are you surprised?” I ask, slightly annoyed by his surprised tone. It’s not like I went to the moon and back without them, right? It’s just reading.
Well, it’s not JUST reading. Books are more than simply words on paper, any reader could tell you that. Books are a kind of door to different worlds, they let your imagination free.
Ok, don’t tell them I said that. It’s not so popular in school.
“No, it’s just that…you didn’t look like the reader type of guy…” says Duncan.
“Well, does it change anything? No, right?” I honestly hope they don’t lower their esteem for me for a little thing like this. Besides, I would never leave reading for someone, ever. Books stay with you for life. Period.
“No, it doesn’t, it’s just…it surprised me, that’s all. Do you want to wake up Mr Charleston?” asks William, eager to change the subject, the tense atmosphere Duncan, Alex and I created does not suit him, apparently.
If I was had been a simple witness to our conversation, I might agree with him.
“Nah, let him be, besides, we can do what we want in the meantime. That’s cool!” says Duncan, jumping up to the idea of recking havoc and a little chaos in this saint-forbidden school.
“You guys can go destroy the world; I’m going to finish my chapter.” I declare. Or better, my book. Lol. I have an addiction to classics and books in general.
“Oh, come on, Kyle, leave your book and live with us! Let’s-” Alex starts saying, but he gets interrupted by Mr Charleston’s wake-up last snore. The man blinks himself awake and looks all around his classroom, to understand where he is and what he’s supposed to be doing, I guess.
“Morning class!” he screeches, with his raspy high-pitched voice that always reminds me of a duck with laryngitis. We had a quarter of an hour’s worth of break, though. That’s good.
“Morning Mr Charleston!” we say back, some of us on the verge of laughing like crazy because of the sound of Mr Charleston’s voice.
I pity the man, if it wasn’t for his voice, he might also be a tolerable teacher. Besides the subject he chose to teach, of course.
“What did we have in program to do today, huh? Anyone?” he asks the class. Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, he’s a bit forgetful, as all people of a certain age happen to be.
“We had to choose the pairs for our lab work, professor!” says Cailyn Thompson, the most insufferable teenage girl I have ever had to share a class with since primary school.
Plus, I must live with the knowledge she has a crush on me since 4th grade…eww. Why doesn’t she just stay quiet, for once! He said we would be paired up in alphabetical order-
“Ah, yes, yes! Thank you, Miss Thompson! Of course, you all remember I decided that the pairs would be made in alphabetical order, yes?” Mr Charleston announces. Oh hell, might I be damned if I end up roaming the streets of London to talk about History with HER.
I cannot stand her, she’s so annoying and simple. Not in my range of esteem, sorry. Moving on.
“Of course, Aarons with Abbott, Abrams and Allan, Barkworth with Bennett, Berkeley and Blackmore, Brooks with Carmichael, Carter and Cuthbert…” He did not just say those three words. This day could not get worse than this.
As if Elizabeth had heard me, I hear her groan at our professor’s words, and she turns to look at Kayla in exasperation.
I am pleased to see we can agree on one thing: we can share a class, but forced proximity isn’t a thing we can tolerate, as per our encounter earlier.
And I am very well happy to oblige to our univocal desire, if the teacher hadn’t put us in a pair together for an assignment that pays for half my grade.
I cannot lose this class for Her. It would be utterly absurd.
While I think about all the possibilities I must get out of this torture of an assignment, Mr Charleston paired up Elizabeth’s best friend Kayla with one of my own best friends, my dear Duncan Wallace…well, we’ll see how they work out.
“Perfect, if you have any questions, you can simply ask. Your task is to find one building either inspired by or dating back to the 1500s, and hopefully find a connection between it and our dear playwright, Mr. William Shakespeare (per request of your teacher, Miss Carey). I sincerely hope you’ll thrive beautifully in your search. I bid you farewell, because our lesson is finished, and I don’t want to make you linger in this class more than what is owed to it. Oh, I just remembered: the assignment is due in two weeks’ time!” Mr. Charleston yells, from across the hallway.
Yes, he was already outside the classroom.
I gather my abandoned copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray from my desk and throw my study bag on my right shoulder with the other, then I make my way out of the class…but this time, she interrupts me in my stride.
“We need to work on the project, Carter. And I know we have a grudge against each other, (yes, I do not deny it) but I am sure you do not want to fail this class more than I do; besides, we would anger Miss Carey also, and that doesn’t sound promising at all. So, we’ll keep in touch, right? You have my number from the class group chat. You choose when, and I choose where; fine by you?” she declares very quickly, not letting me have the time to process all that she is saying.
“Yeah, fine, yeah.” I mumble, startled at her know-it-all attitude. This girl has a million tricks up her sleeve. You know what I mean. One moment she was there. And then she was gone.